


Dark Visions and Broken Chains

by InFamousHero



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Satele Shan Critical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InFamousHero/pseuds/InFamousHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a wayward knight of the Jedi Order, the Outlander now finds herself finally confronting a figure of her past she's longed to deal with and declares once and for all what she has become in her search for understanding.</p><p>[Direct spoilers for the chapter "Visions in the Dark"]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dark Visions and Broken Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader, you don't know how long I've been waiting for a scenario like this to present itself to me but good god was I cackling like a damn hyena as I played this chapter because it was just so infuriatingly PERFECT for K'Surda.
> 
> To be clear, this is pretty much what happened in the whole chapter, just tweaked and elaborated on for K'Surda's particular perspective on the whole thing.

That Senya would suggest such a thing didn’t surprise K’Surda at all. She still believed Valkorion could be reasoned with in some way, that somehow he _wasn’t_ the limitlessly monstrous entity K’Surda knew him as. Convincing her of that would take more time and patience than K’Surda had for the subject, so she agreed to it.

Lana knew full well how she felt at least and smoothed the idea over for her, made it easier to approach.

Valkorion was being distant, _petulant_. She would have to talk to him on his terms if she wanted any information from him.

Lana saw her off with a kiss and an ‘order’ to stay safe and aware.

_“You have forgotten what it means to face death alone, I will remind you.”_

She wasn’t safe at all, of that she was painfully aware.

 

 

“Pitiful. Why did I ever believe you could change anything?”

Her back hit the rocks and K’Surda choked on the air as it was shunted from her lungs. His grip, his _power_ , washed over her and brought bile to her throat, holding her to the rock face like a pinned insect. It slithered into her, all barbed threads and poisoned strings, trying to strangle her connection to Lana and stop her from divulging anything he hadn’t approved just yet.

The threat of isolation made her eyes sting and she screwed them shut, refusing to cry for him.

Finally he dropped her and she slumped to the ground, coughing. Her heart pounded and she struggled upright, sucking in air gratefully.

“If you want to end it then end it!” she snarled, clenching her hands as the strength trickled back into her limbs. “I’m not your puppet! I’m not your _toy!_ ”

His face twisted in a look of derision, like he was looking at a disobedient child who’d disappointed him again. K’Surda tried to broaden her stance, suddenly feeling smaller for the look, but it did nothing to change it. “I will not gift you that release. Not yet.”

His words were a brick to the stomach and K’Surda ground her teeth, trying to rein in her fear and frustration. How much time had she lost to this monster’s scheming, to his whims? And now he deigned to treat her life as if it was his to give and take away as he deemed fit. K’Surda had to swallow her bile again, clenching her jaws shut tight. Her hands would be shaking if she hadn’t curled them into fists.

Valkorion turned away from her, ever ineffectual, ever _cold_ , to the effect he had on those he tormented. He never cared, not once in his life had he ever truly cared about anyone or anything but his own wants.

His voice carried a threat to it that wrenched K’Surda’s heart into her throat. “This was a fraction of the pain my children can inflict. If you do not finish your training—become something greater—you will feel the full weight of their rage.”

She grasped her fear and tried to tear it apart, push it away, anything to rid herself of it and show only anger. But he was a living nightmare and she had every reason to fear him. Every memory, every _detail_ of her time with him and the sensation of feeling Ziost die to his hunger…

K’Surda pushed away from the rock, forcing herself to step towards him with her teeth bared like a frightened dog trying to be brave. “You know damn well there’s nothing they can do to me that I won’t survive. You’ve already _done_ everything else.”

He chuckled, echoing around her unnaturally, and she flinched despite herself. He smiled coldly at that. “You draw on that time like fuel and scrabble for anything that resembles peace, but you lie to yourself. What peace have you found, truly?”

He vanished and his voice hissed into her ear. “You still shake at my very presence.”

K’Surda flinched again and whirled, striking out towards him with lightning. He simply laughed at her. “Your goal isn’t to merely survive. You are greater than the cowering child you present to me. Your goal is to _rule._ There is nothing else.”

The pressure of his presence faded somewhat, but not nearly enough. K’Surda glanced around, checking every shadow between the trees even if she knew she would never find him. He continued as if carrying a far more casual conversation. “I cannot stay to protect you any longer. There are matters to which I must attend…but I will leave you with a final token of my favour.”

It hit her like a flood of liquid ice, rushing through her body in prickles and twists and felt _wrong_ , entirely wrong and unnatural as it coiled through her. K’Surda grunted and fell to her knees, fingers curling into the soil as pain snapped through her being through the haze of corrupt energy.

Honeycomb eyes flashed through her mind and she curled over, gripping her head to shut out the accusations and the _screaming_. Stars, they never stopped screaming when she saw them in her dreams, twisted by Sel-Makor’s power that felt so, so horribly similar to this ‘token’ Valkorion bestowed on her.

Finally it ended and K’Surda struggled to her feet again, vision doubling.

Valkorion’s voice held a hint of amusement. “Fulfil your destiny, child, and I promise to return.”

She managed to snatch some coherency, snarling at him. “You won’t survive coming back.”

Another laugh, wistful this time. “I have never been your enemy. Remember that, and be victorious.”

She couldn’t think of anything through her disgusted shock at his words and he withdrew. The same horrid energy crackled and raced through her again, dancing along her nerves like knives. It sapped strength from her quicker than any poison and K’Surda collapsed to the forest floor, desperately trying to reach Lana through their bond and feeling nothing but silence.

 

 

At any other time she would have enjoyed Odessen’s wilderness, watched the stars, listened to the creatures who called the night home. It could have been a peaceful night, but all she felt was unease and agitation, picking through a ship whose innards felt far too familiar.

K’Surda wanted to be wrong, but who else would carry a locket with a holo of a younger Theron? She hardly expected to find his _father_ with all the journals about Sith, Jedi and the Knights.

But by the _stars_ she wanted to be surprised.

It wasn’t to be.

She moved down a winding path, away from the ship and the main body of the camp, scowling at the light of a campfire and the figure it illuminated. The beauty of the valley was lost on K’Surda and she clenched her hands, coming to a stop just short of the light’s radius.

“You… of course you’re here,” she growled. “This just makes everything _perfect_.”

“It’s been a long time, Knight Dorne,” Satele greeted her calmly, rising from the campfire to face her.

K’Surda crossed her arms. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped. The title felt like an insult now, once something she felt ashamed of for not living up to its implications. She would never allow herself to feel shame for that ever again.

The tone did nothing to break Satele’s calm. She shrugged lightly and turned away to the fire where a pot resided. “Suit yourself. It may be better that way. You seem to have survived well enough,” she said and checked the contents of the pot. “Come, sit. There’s food.”

“No.”

“Not hungry? Fine. More for us.”

“Us?”

The question went ignored and K’Surda frowned, studying the old master. Five years had passed, certainly, and Satele looked different, but K’Surda couldn’t help feeling in her gut that _nothing_ had changed at all. Not really.

Satele straightened from checking the pot and looked at her. “Many things changed while you slept in carbonite. We felt your absence more than ever; a simple call wasn’t going to bring you back.” K’Surda’s frown deepened but she held her tongue for the moment. “I led the fight to save the Republic from Zakuul in your place. Nothing prepared me to face that enemy.” Satele’s voice trailed momentarily and her brow furrowed in regret. “I failed, again and again.”

K’Surda remained where she was, refusing the warmth of Satele’s fire. She growled once more, “somehow that doesn’t surprise me. How long did you hold out? How long did you _wait_ before you ran away?”

The questions did nothing to unsettle Satele. “When the Republic surrendered to Arcann, I gave myself to the will of the Force. I left the Core Worlds and found this planet. We’ve been here for years. Waiting.”

Shock and disbelief dropped her arms to her sides but K’Surda resisted letting her jaw drop as well. “The _will_ of the Force?” she muttered, quickly raising her voice after. “You left the galaxy to be conquered by Arcann and you want to act like you didn’t _abandon_ it to his butchery?”

A mild frown crossed Satele’s face, briefly, but she was calm again so quickly. “I listened. A skill you seem to have trouble perfecting even now. Many confuse reaction for taking control. But there is power in stillness.”

K’Surda clenched her hands, fire coiling her stomach. “Power _nothing_! You’re hiding here, from everything!”

Satele just shook her head as if facing a petulant child. **“** Yell all you want. It will not get you what you seek.” She turned away from the campfire and looked down the valley, contemplative. “We sensed your awakening on Zakuul. Felt the presence of our old enemy guiding you. We witnessed the victories and defeats leading you here. When we found you in that clearing, we faced a choice. Bring you here… or end you there.”

By the  stars _,_ her stomach dropped into her feet. K’Surda swallowed hard and tried to rein in her horror, the quickly rising anger that Satele would still…

She reminded K’Surda of Vitiate, in a way. They both acted as if it was their _right_ to hold her life on a string and decide when to cut it, after both of them worked to _ruin_ her.

She was not a thing to toy with, machinery to break because they wanted to see how it worked or something to fix by smashing the pieces together and inexplicably hoping that did the job. She was not a _thing._

K’Surda grasped the anger in her belly and held tight, keeping her voice hard. “You don’t have the stomach to kill anyone, that’s what you had _me_ and others like me for.”

A hardness entered Satele’s gaze at that. “I can kill, when necessary. Today it isn’t.” Again, she avoided the bait, the barb, anything that spoke of the past and the failures she had never acknowledged or done anything to address. It only served to stoke the fire in K’Surda’s blood.

Satele continued, looking back towards the valley. “Valkorion strengthened your bond to the Force. You may be the greatest of us all, but your old training couldn’t prepare you for what’s to come.” She began to move down the path. “You have much to learn—”

K’Surda snarled, stepping towards her. “I am not a jedi and you are not my master, you’re _no one’s_ master! Don’t presume you have something to teach me or that you have the _right_ to do so.”

There was only a sigh for her effort. “You are speaking with anger before reason. I know why, but that isn’t your purpose here. Seek the answers throughout the valley. You will know when you find them.”

Satele walked away from her and K’Surda clenched her hands tight, breath misting into the night air.

Maybe something would come of this and she could put it behind her, finally, but she didn’t raise her hopes. There was nothing to gain from that.

She pressed on and followed the beacons, traversing the valley’s rocky, forested terrain with finesse. It almost reminded her of the valleys on Tatooine, but with far more handholds in the vines and roots threading the outcrops and cliff faces. K’Surda could almost find calm in the climbing, if not for Satele’s voice touching her mind.

_“There is no greater challenge than to change from within. But that is what we all must do to survive.”_

K’Surda flinched and nearly fell off her perch, baring her teeth in another snarl. “I already know this. I _had_ to learn this when you sent me on that damn mission and I came back in so many pieces I couldn’t tell what was the old me anymore!” She scowled, pulling herself up onto the outcrop.

The silence made her scoff and she lit the next beacon. “I’m sorry, I interrupted you. You wanted to spout wisdom at me?”

Nothing. Of course, there was nothing.

She kept moving.

The beasts gave her trouble sometimes, but she cut through them, venting her frustration on anything vicious and hungry enough to try her.

It wasn’t enough that she’d had to deal with Vitiate and his schemes today, now she had to listen to the prattling of a negligent coward.

Steam coiled from the air as another beast fell at her feet, body cleaved in half from a mighty swing off her right blade.

Again, Satele’s voice spoke to her.

_“On countless worlds I watched Jedi sacrifice themselves to delay inevitable defeat. We will not let you meet their fate.”_

Bitterness rippled through her and K’Surda marched down the path to the next beacon. “Yeah, because death would be the worst thing that’s happened to me and we wouldn’t want _that_. I mean, I’m not useful if I’m dead, am I?”

More silence, so sudden in its restraint. The refusal felt like a palpable, smothering wave of contempt and K’Surda clenched her hands.

The light of the beacon illuminated her and she scowled.

There was still nothing to be felt in her bond to Lana. It was like a blanket had been thrown in it, muffling anything she tried to send or feel in return.

What she would give for the surety of Lana’s presence at her side right now.

She took a deep breath and focused on her anger, steeling herself with it as she continued down the path. She picked her way through the rocks and ducked through the trees, jumping the gaps she couldn’t climb.

The night air was cool and tugged at her frame, black and silver, adorned with the marks that made up her childhood. The trappings of ghorfa and desert life, of duneclaw fur and wraid teeth, wrapped around a human who once felt so at home in the wilderness.

She could still feel it pulling at her insides, calling to her, the urge to explore as she did when she was a child.

Finally, she landed at what seemed to be the last beacon.

_“I went to Zakuul in secret to see the Eternal Throne myself. I still bear the scars of that journey.”_

K’Surda stopped short of the beacon, closing her eyes as the words repeated in her head like mocking cycle. “Am I supposed to feel sympathy?” she asked quietly.

When there was no response, she opened her eyes in a scowl. “When I came back you treated me like a child, acted as if it was my own fault for not being good enough, for not being strong enough to keep that _monster_ out of my head. You kept throwing me out there, again and again, into each new fire he created and acting like _I_ was the unreasonable one for being _broken!_  You have no right to talk to me about _scars._ ”

Finally, that got a response. _“You of all people should understand what scars can do to someone, how they can change a person.”_

K’Surda growled, lighting the last beacon. “I haven’t seen anything different yet.”

 

 

Already she was tired of this, _exhausted_ by it. Satele’s presence had only ever sapped her of will and dignity and it all felt so terribly familiar.

Her eyes flicked across the massive, standing logs creating a path to the other side of the chasm, falls drowning the bottom in a spray of water, before they finally came to rest on Satele. The light of a nearby fire illuminated her features and K’Surda shied away from sharing it, scowling.

“On Odessen, light and dark exist in perfect balance, forming a nexus in the Force,” Satele said. “There is another world like it… Zakuul. Arcann and his Knights learned to use the Force in a different way from Jedi and Sith. It’s why we couldn’t truly defeat them.”

“Don’t cover your failure with excuses about how superior the enemy is. You don’t have the strength to face them or you wouldn’t be hiding.”

“You’re starting to understand, though not in the way you think. Jedi approach the Force as a companion, and Sith try to enslave it. But Arcann’s knights believe the Force is their reward for serving an ideal. They swear their lives to the Eternal Emperor. The more they honour is commandments, the greater their power. The knights obey their masters without question, sacrificing everything for his triumph. Devotion makes them strong. You must become stronger.”

K’Surda shook her head, rubbing at her face to try and wipe some of her frustration away. “How would you know anything about my strength?” She sighed heavily and let her hands drop, glaring. “I’ve learned better than you since we last saw each other and I don’t need you dictating what I become.”

_“Those who do not bend… break.”_

K’Surda all but jumped as the figure of Darth Marr himself stepped into being next to Satele, a shimmering spectre of the Force. She blinked, staring in momentary surprise. “Marr…”

He nodded shortly. “Valkorion destroyed my flesh, but not my reason for being.”

She took in his appearance, the moment of his death flashing through her mind. “Nothing can hurt you now. Why the armour?”

His posture was proud, shoulders squared. “I appear to you as I wish to be remembered. A symbol.”

K’Surda nodded, understanding the logic. She would use it herself if it ever came to that and wear her helmet. Lana might be the only one who would remember her as a person, but then Lana was the only one left who knew her that well to begin with.

Marr’s head turned towards Satele. “After my defeat, I sought an ally to make things right again. But only one in all the galaxy was my equal.”

K’Surda all but reeled, brows raised in disbelief as Marr continued. “We met on this world. We argued, explored… and found an understanding. We now pass that knowledge to you.”

She could barely find her words. “And I’m supposed to believe this…” she murmured. It just seemed absurd that Marr would find common ground with Satele. That _Satele_ would find common ground with a Darth. K’Surda could feel her brain cracking just trying to understand how such a thing even happened.

A mild look of sympathy crossed Satele’s features. “If our roles were reversed, I’d feel the same doub.t No one is more surprised than I am to be here, in this moment. But I trust the will of the Force.”

K’Surda could help the short laugh that shunted out of her, bitter in nature. “You still sound like a Jedi.”

The corners of Satele’s mouth turned down but she showed little else in the way of emotion. “You sound no different yourself.”

Marr made a vaguely exasperated sound, his voice seething. “Focus. _Listen_. We do not offer empty platitudes. We do not promise easy victory. To forge the future, you must first break with the past. Victory over Arcann requires new perspectives… and new weapons.”

Satele nodded at him and looked at K’Surda again. “All we ask is that you listen with an open mind—and learn from our failures. Follow the will of the Force into the wilderness beyond this camp. Find what we left for you, and meet us in the cave.”

 

 

_“I’ll see you again… every time you close your eyes…”_

K’Surda squeezed the tears from her eyes and clutched her head, trying to control her breathing. Why did he have children? Why did one of them come so _damn_ close to being just like him in every way?

She strangled her memories into submission, desperately stuffing every torturous detail of her time under _his_ control into an abyss of her own making until all she heard was the dripping of water from the cave ceiling.

The dark felt insulating in a way. She could hide, let it swaddle her like a scared child and shut out everything that hurt her. She could turn it on her enemies and become stronger for it.

But of course, the isolation couldn’t last.

Footsteps drew her attention and she turned around, glaring at Satele and Marr’s approach.

“Took you long enough.”

Satele looked around, distracted. “There was a ripple.”

Taking deep breath, K’Surda tried to order her thoughts and crossed her arms. “A vision of a battle with Vaylin. It wasn’t real.”

Satele’s questioning gaze turned on her and narrowed. “Maybe, maybe not, but visions can serve as warnings for the future. A bond to the Force as intense as yours brings with it powerful insight, if you are willing to listen.”

Marr clasped his hands behind his back. “Heed what you saw. Behind Arcann stands Vaylin… and behind her, many others. They will all try to stop you. The weapons you wield were built for a different war, a different enemy. They no longer serve you. They must change, as you have.”

The assumption struck her like a physical blow and K’Surda bared her teeth, unconsciously reaching for her hilts as it to protect them. “These were the weapons I forged _outside_ your squabbling, for my own path, not your war.”

Marr was immovable, his tone final. “They are not enough. You need a weapon forged in a nexus of the Force, a pure extension of its will—one you alone control. With it, you can unite a thousand stars.”

Her throat began to close and K’Surda swallowed hard, clutching her hilts.

If Satele noticed her unease, she showed no sign of it. “You have the parts; all you need to do is construct it. We offer to add our strength to yours, but you must be the guiding hand. Focus the power, and decide what form it takes.”

All the negatives of the night coiled tighter in her belly, like a spring ready to break. K’Surda struggled to keep her frustration in check, restraining the urge to lash out and bite like a cornered wraid.

She took a shaking breath and sighed deeply. “If it gets me away from you, fine _,_ but _you_ get nothing to do with this. Marr can help, that’s it.”

Satele glanced at Marr, who had nothing in response, and simply nodded at her. “Very well.”

They moved down into the lower parts of the cave where an altar stood illuminated in cold light, its surface roughly hewn. K’Surda took out the components she’d collected in the valley and put them down, scowling at them as if they were to blame.

She and the Alliance needed every edge they could get. If she _had_ to do this…

She took one of her own hilts and with some fiddling she popped open the casing that held the strange colour crystals she used. She fished it out and put the hilt away, setting the crystal down with the rest of the components.

K’Surda stepped back and focused, pooling her frustrations into something palpable that all but snapped the air around her. The components lifted at her command and she felt Marr’s energy flow into her, aiding in her construction.

The lack of Satele’s interference was a minor scrap of comfort.

She closed her eyes and concentrated, funnelling her anger into the blade. It would hold her resolution and perseverance, the rage that allowed her to survive and overcome everyone who had ever tried to hurt, manipulate or outright control her.

She refused to be a puppet again. If she had to forge this blade, it would _hers_ as much as she could manage to make it and the path she took from here would be _hers_ too.

It came together and K’Surda gasped, eyes snapping open. It certainly felt stronger, resonating to her senses like a clear bell. She frowned and picked it up, igniting it. The dark blue core came through cleanly, but the soft indigo at the edges seemed much brighter.

At least it _looked_ like it was hers. She extinguished the blade and clipped it into place at her hip.

Marr sounded pleased. “That blade is part of you, now. The next time  you face Arcann in battle, he will not be ready for you.”

She almost could have smiled at that, if not for Satele’s voice cutting in. “But violence can only destroy. It doesn’t inspire others to greatness, and it can never rebuild. Only a leader can do that.”

K’Surda scowled and turned to face them, arms crossed.

Marr gestured to the centre of his chest, where the blast from Valkorion had ended his life. “I once thought it enough to be the unstoppable force between my people and the enemy. I faced Valkorion and refused to bend. That choice broke me—and doomed the worlds I sought to defend.”

Satele nodded, regret entering her expression. “I sent Jedi to fight an enemy I didn’t understand, because I believed in the justness of my cause. Those deaths still haunt me. We know what it means to fail those who counted on us. We would spare you that pain.”

If she wasn’t so disgusted, K’Surda would have laughed at the notion of Satele wishing to _spare_ her of pain. Instead she bared her teeth again. “You failed and fell apart, then blamed it on fate, the Force and a philosophy you only ever considered in suspicion and contempt because it wasn’t your own. Don’t compare me to that, I’ve adapted once already to a sudden, _unpleasant_ change. I know what I’m doing.”

A sharp edge of criticism made Satele’s eyes narrow at her. “Your brief time as the Supreme Commander of Jedi Forces on Corellia tested you, and exposed your limitations.”

The words may as well have been a barbed knife through the ribs and K’Surda bristled, fire racing through her veins. “And whose _wise_ decision was it to put me, the broken jedi, in charge of all that? Who made the choice to throw me into the fire despite every damn warning sign that I wasn’t ready! That I was _never_ ready! I didn’t ask to lead your damn war front, you shoved me into that position without so much as a fucking warning! As if you expected that to go off without a hitch or else I was a failure, again! And it would have _nothing_ to do with you!”

The sheer audacity to bring up that failure as if it was entirely on K’Surda’s shoulders struck her pointlessly cruel. She had enough nightmares and guilt to last the rest of her life, knowing damn well her choices brought the deaths of so many.

But no, Satele didn’t wish her any ‘pain,’ of course. Of _course_ she didn’t.

Despite the outburst, Satele’s composure remained perfectly held. “The point, is that it was a learning experience for you.”

The callousness wouldn’t have stunned K’Surda on its own. It was the refusal, the lack of acknowledgement. Satele wanted to speak of failures, of how she learned better, but still refused to acknowledge how she failed before the Eternal Empire came.

Marr’s voice filled the silence that followed. “What she means is that leading this Alliance is unlike anything you have done before. Directing the war effort is a mere fraction of the burden you must bear.”

Satele nodded, moving on without so much as noticing the disbelief on K’Surda’s face. “You must not only know when to fight, but when to retreat—or even to make peace with your foe. There is an oasis not far from this cave. Your final lesson waits there.”

It was all she could do to hold in her scream, numbly walking away from them and shaking with anger.

 

 

Broken scales, burns and spilled innards marked a fight she desperately needed if she wanted to avoid exploding.

The jurgoran lay dead at her feet in pieces, oasis water lapping at its broken flank even as it steadily grew cloudy and red.

It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t the _target_ she wanted.

She bowed her head, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Unsurprising, you killed your enemy and claimed its home… for now.”

Satele’s voice made her straighten and she clenched her teeth, trying to formulate a response even as Satele kept talking. “Some believe you’re destined to walk this path. Others think you make the choices that decide their fates.”

“Your alliance will collapse if you do not know yourself—and the ideal you serve.” Marr stepped into existence again, his tones firm as always. “Do you understand?”

Enough.

K’Surda snarled and turned on her heel to face them both, crackling with energy. “There is no ‘destiny!’ My choices make all the difference, good or bad, it has nothing to do with anything as trite and unreliable as ‘ _destiny!_ ’”

The anger was lost on Satele, none of it mattered. She refused to acknowledge it. “If nothing else, your way is clear, and so is ours.” She glanced at the Darth. “Do you feel it, Marr? The Force draws us… elsewhere.”

He nodded, looking briefly to the stars. “The exile on Odessen is over.”

Were they really just going to…?

Satele looked at her. “A new path has opened, thanks to you. Our duty is to follow it.”

_Enough._

Her heart pounded, her breath came short, and K’Surda knew her eyes had turned _red_ for the sudden look of wariness that came to Satele. “No. No, you don’t get to just leave,” she growled, hands clenched. “What have you accomplished here? All you’ve done is speak in vagaries and cryptic nonsense about the Force as if you’re _trying_ to sound wise. All because you can’t accept the fact that you were wrong, that there isn’t one completely right way to interact with the Force, and you’re _clinging_ to the way of the enemy that _finally_ defeated you as a saving grace. As if that means you’ve learned anything! I won’t become you, I _refuse_ to be so spineless—how did I _ever_ believe you knew better? That you _must_ know better because you were the Grand Master, of _course_ you would know better!”

She was shaking, she had to pace just to exert some shred of control over herself and the red shallows splashed beneath her feet. “Even when I _knew_ you were wrong, I still doubted myself because you knew damn well how to make me feel like a failure! As if I was in the wrong, as if everything _he_ did to me was somehow _my_ fault! And now you want to play the part of _humbled_ master! After sending how many to their deaths, after sending how many hapless knights who believed in you to have their minds broken by the war?!” Her voice had risen to a yell by the end and she tried to keep her breathing steady, clenching and relaxing her hands.

She turned to face Satele again, eyes burning at the _serenity_ on her features. “You don’t get to leave here feeling good about your cowardice, as if you’ve _fixed_ me!”

Still, Satele only watched her expectantly and said nothing, studying her as if staring at something she wasn’t sure she should be offended by.

K’Surda ground her teeth, trying to grasp some sort of coherent action through her frustration. The moment it came to her it snapped her fury into form, hard and enduring, like armour under her skin.

She stood defiantly, her chin up, her shoulders squared, and spoke loud and clear. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

Never had she spoken it aloud, acknowledged it as part of her. Lana may have helped her refine the techniques and powers she had learned under Vitiate and from Scourge, teaching her properly where others had left her violated and clueless. But when it came to codes, to philosophy, Lana left her alone to figure it out for herself what felt right. She never was one for converting people.

Now, more than ever, it felt _entirely_ right.

Even the disappointment on Satele’s face couldn’t break her of that thought and for that, K’Surda felt stronger.

Satele sighed deeply. “You still do not listen.”

Reaching for her sabres, K’Surda growled. “Neither do you.” She ignited them and held them ready, ignoring Marr’s bristling posture. “You never have. You helped shatter me but I’m not yours to fix. You don’t get to take responsibility for that or what I become. And now, you die. I’ve had enough of you.”

Another sigh and the look Satele gave her reminded her so very much of Vitiate’s own callous disregard. “I understand.”

Crackling with power, K’Surda launched herself at Satele and swung hard with all her rage focused into a crushing edge. Her sabres blazed and...

Nothing.

She stood on the wet sand with her sabres out stretched.

Marr and Satele were gone.

She blinked slowly, trying to order her thoughts and realize what just happened.

She nearly flinched at Satele’s voice echoing around her. _“It’s not my time to die. Not yet.”_

K’Surda’s head snapped to the stars. “Coward!” she screamed.

Her own voice echoed off the rocky oasis walls and the longer K’Surda stood there, the more she realized Satele wasn’t coming back. She had escaped, run away again and refused to even so much as acknowledge…

They were both gone. Vitiate and Satele were both out of her reach.

The hint, the scrap and _whisper_ of closure, something to put to rest, it was as if the galaxy knew what tore at her the most and decided to dangle both of them in front of her like a mockery of her entire life.

K’Surda dropped her sabres as her breath came shorter than ever and she tried not to stumble, struggling to see straight. Her breath shuddered out of her in confused bursts of laughter before abruptly exploding in a wounded _roar_.

If the Force truly had a ‘will,’ she would see it _broken_ for its abject cruelty.


	2. Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is immediately after. I was hoping for more romance related content regarding the Outlander's disappearance. For instance, something like this bonus thing.

It hit her like a solid wall of duracrete and nearly took her legs out from under her at its suddenness. Lana leaned against the war table, bowing her head and screwing her eyes shut tight as she tried to process the flood of overwhelmingly strong emotions assaulting her.

A horrible noise raced through her mind and for a second or two she couldn’t tell if she had heard it in the room or from elsewhere. It sounded like screaming, deep and painful, wrenching at her.

Senya asked her something, probably having felt a ripple at the very least, but Lana didn’t hear the words. It was the most she could do to just stand and endure it as it washed over her, gripping the table for stability.

When it finally lessened to a tolerable degree, she let go and found her hands painfully stiff. Opening her eyes allowed a handful of tears to drop to the table surface and she frowned, trying to reassert herself over the swell.

_K’Surda._

Something had gone terribly wrong. 

Regret burned like a frozen coal in her gut and Lana left the war room without a word, hurrying for the lift. She marched through the base and broke into a run as the swell cleared and she could finally feel something other than an utterly deceptive _calm_  from K’Surda.

Her wayward knight was hurting. Physically, yes, but that wasn’t what put urgency into her steps.

Cool night air greeted her as she reached the forest in which K’Surda disappeared. Light shafted through the clustering trees from their base and Lana frowned deeply, pressing forward. K’Surda wasn’t far, Lana could just about hear her moving through the undergrowth.

“K’Surda!”

K’Surda’s yellow eyes flashed in the dark, looking directly at Lana between the trees. She stumbled and finally stepped out onto the main path looking considerably worse for wear than when she left. She slumped to her knees on the mud path, feeling _emptied_  of everything.

Lana knelt and reached out, gently taking K’Surda’s face in her hands. Besides getting into fights, K’Surda looked like she’d been crying.

Fire swept through her veins but Lana reined herself in, trying not to jump on every possibility at once. She needed to focus.

Restorative energy glowed to life in her palms and she quietly worked on finding the aches and pains across K’Surda’s body. All the while, Lana reached through their bond, trying to coax K’Surda out of her mental shell and reassure her she didn’t need to withdraw.

Neither was a wasted effort. Anyone else would have been ignored but K’Surda closed her eyes, embracing Lana’s reassurance fiercely like a drowning person desperately clung to flotsam.

It came with the connection, information, imagery, more emotions as it filtered through both their minds and…

Lana started, her power faltering as she heard K’Surda’s voice recite the Sith Code. Satele’s expression was met with nothing but defiance and vengeance was met with nothing but cowardice.

And the _scream._

She blinked, ordering her own thoughts as the information settled in. K’Surda’s head hung heavy, resting in Lana’s grasp and eyes half-shut. Her whole posture and presence screamed with exhaustion on all fronts and Lana took a deep breath, gathering her own strength. She pulled K’Surda in and hugged her close, arms cradling her head.

K’Surda would be needed soon and Lana cursed everything that played a part in breaking K’Surda down like this. However, as she shared in her energy and strength, Lana felt a spark of something hard and resilient in K’Surda.

It was vastly outweighed by grief and anger, certainly, but K’Surda’s encounter with Satele, the way it ended, seemed to have brought her some measure of lasting peace. It was finally put to rest what she had become, no more doubting, no more feeling lost. K’Surda knew what she was now.

Lana latched out onto that spark, trying to keep it in K’Surda’s conscious thoughts and embolden her with it.

_You are the strongest person I have ever known._

It seemed to work as K’Surda’s flagging will livened up and fingers curled tight against her flank. Lana smiled in relief and started to pull K’Surda to her feet. K’Surda followed easily and stayed close, her eyes a little less dull and unfocused.

Hopefully she could at least get K’Surda out of the cold for a few minutes of calm before the war room needed them.


End file.
